I Remember
by Burnee14
Summary: Elena met Damon first. He compelled her to forget. Or so he thought... (Brief summary- please read & review!)
1. Prologue

**I Remember**

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**Prologue**

I hung up on Bonnie, she was right of course. I wasn't into it and I was leading him on. My parents were coming to collect me from the bonfire after I had got into a fight with my current (now ex) boyfriend; Matt Donovan. I had walked from the gathering to the main road nearby, to wait for them to arrive. It was dark, yet there was still enough moonlight for me to make out the man who had suddenly appeared before me, seemingly out of no-where. The reason that I didn't take a step back may have been down to the fact that I was quite drunk, or so I told myself. I had drunk one beer. I was a lightweight.

"Katherine" he whispered, in a mixture of shock and hope. A look of desperate confusion sent in my direction.

I looked around, believing him to be talking to someone else, but that was ridiculous. There was only us two. The poor guy was probably drunk himself, heading home after a night out at the Mystic Grill, ditched by his friends. From what I could see of him in the half light, he was very good looking; with raven black hair and light eyes, although I couldn't make out the colour. He was probably in his early twenties, although his face had an ageless quality about it. He was wearing all black, rocking the whole 'bad boy' look as far as it would go; it suited him.

"Um...No I.. I'm Elena" I said as I finished checking behind myself.

The poor guy probably wouldn't even recollect my name by morning, so no harm in telling him. He squinted, looked me up and down and came to the conclusion that I obviously wasn't this 'Katherine' person, although it took him a while.

"Oh... You... You just look..." he sighs. "I'm sorry... You just really remind me of someone." he pauses, looking as if her were deciding whether to tell me something.

"I'm Damon." he smiled as if he wasn't used to parting with that titbit of information.

Now that names were established, I realised my current situation was a bit of an odd one. What on earth was he doing, standing out here in the road at this hour? He didn't look homeless…

"Not to be rude or anything Damon, but it's kind of creepy that you're out here in the middle of no-where"

I realised how stupid that sounded as soon as I'd said it. I was a hypocrite. He probably had a good reason for being out here, like me. Score one to the creepy hot guy.

"You're one to talk. You're out here all by yourself" he gestured slightly to the empty surroundings.

Ok, yeah fair enough, but nothing ever happened here. It has to be the most un-eventful town in the whole of Virginia. Damon must be new here or just passing through.

"It's Mystic Falls; nothing bad ever happens here" I reasoned.

Suddenly it dawned to me that may not have been the best thing to say; for all I know, he could be a serial killer. Given the awkward pause, I better change the subject. I picked my arm up- clutching my phone- from my side and waved it about, as if that explained everything

"Got into a fight with my boyfriend" I sighed. If in doubt, use the sympathy card.

"About what?.. May I ask?" he requested, raising his hands as if in surrender.

That was actually a question I needed to ask myself. I thought about it for a few seconds. Matt had to be the loveliest and most harmless person I knew. He had baby-blue eyes and light brown hair; he was a jock and I was a cheerleader. We had known each other for years, we grew up together, and we owed it to ourselves to give the relationship a go. The problem was Matt was more into it then I was; he had plans, a list of things to do and I couldn't live like that. I wanted the freedom to make my own decisions and wanted to deal with things when I reached them; to live in the moment. It had been like this for weeks now; I should break up with him as my two best friends have told me to, but I would feel guilty about it. I shake my head at the realisation, before remembering that I was in the middle of a conversation with a complete stranger.

"Life! Future. He's got it all mapped out." I finished the sentence bluntly. Expecting a harsh retort, I was pleasantly surprised.

"And you don't want it?" He said this without sympathy, but with _understanding_.

He knew, somehow, what my situation felt like; whether in Matt's position or as me. Unlike Matt, I had no idea what I wanted; I enjoyed writing and wouldn't mind pursuing a career in it, but finding my lifetime happiness? That was a long way off, so I responded the only way I could.

"I don't know what I want."

"Well that's not true. You want what everybody wants!" He replied with a knowing expression, perhaps setting up for a joke? I made a guess at what he was going to say, smiling, because at this point, no psychopath would be giving me relationship advice.

"What? A mysterious stranger who has all the answers?!" I said. He chuckles slightly at that. Wait! Was I flirting with him?

"Well let's just say I've been around a long time. I've learned a few things." he replied, nodding and smiling, almost lost in thought to years past. I was intrigued to what he was going to say.

"So Damon... Tell me; what is it that I want?" I prompted him on. Again, I wasn't expecting a serious answer; which was why I was very shocked at what he said next.

"You want a love that _consumes _you. You want passion. An adventure. And even a little danger." He said all this, taking a step forward for each point, until he was only a metre away. His words temporarily stunned me into silence, because, it turns out, he was completely right. I hadn't even let myself consider all this, that my life could be one great journey- A journey of a lifetime. Here was this man I had never met and he had summed up _exactly_ what I wanted.

After listening to me ramble on about all my 'problems' I thought should ask him in return, interested to know.

"So what do you want?" I asked, tilting my head to the side.

It was his turn to be shocked, like he had never thought about it himself. Puzzlement crossed his forehead and he sighed in concentration, until a horn sounded behind me. I turn and recognise my family car driving around the corner.

"That's my parents!" I was a little annoyed at the lack of time I had to talk to him, I wanted to know his answer. I turn back around to face him and he is suddenly much nearer then before. I was temporarily a bit startled before he started speaking. I must have been drunker than I had previously thought because I swear I saw his pupils contracting and enlarging as he spoke.

"I want you to get everything you're looking for. But right now I want you to forget that this happened; can't have people knowing I'm in town yet." His face softened as he searched mine, recognition clearly there. Genuine hope that I would get what I wanted from life, clear in his expression. "Goodnight Elena"

Before I had a chance to reply, he had gone. Shaking my head to clear the slight haze, I felt for my mother's necklace that had been a gift to her from dad; she had let me wear it tonight. I turned and got into the car that had just stopped behind me, smiling gratefully at my parents before setting off home.

I didn't immediately remember anything when I woke up the next morning. My parents were dead, I was in shock. I shouldn't be alive. Somehow I had got out the car as it was underwater and nobody knew how. The last thing I should have seen when I awoke was him. Damon. _I remembered everything._

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**A/N: Firstly I just want to thank you for reading this, I love to write and share my stories. Secondly, if you wouldn't mind reviewing; it would really help if you gave constructive criticism and told me which aspects you like and even dislike. -Burnee xx**


	2. Chapter 1

**A/N: Hey everyone, thank you for all the reviews and feedback you have left, it means a lot! Please keep it up! A special thanks to my amazing beta, Aishwarya (Pen-name: Elena Gilbert 1992) for being so patient and getting it back to me as soon as possible. Happy reading, -Burnee xx**

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**Chapter 1.**

_Damon's POV._

Everything was just so much easier when you didn't have to feel.

I rip into her neck, fangs out and veins pulsing. The scream she emits does nothing to deter me from the feed, if anything it only drives me onwards, lapping up the sweet liquid that burns red next to her paling skin. She drops to the ground, dead. Drained of the life-force that _literally_ flows-or flowed through her. I feel no regret, no pain and no guilt. I am a vampire. I'm not good and nor am I ever going to be- _he_ has done a good job of that. You don't really expect to be shot by your own father; that's number 1 on my list of all time surprises- it was a very short list, only consisting of two points. The other surprise was when I met the complete replica of the love of my life-that-should-be-dead-but-now-apparently_-isn't_. Elena.

I smile slightly at ever believing she was Katherine; they're identical in every physical way possible, but that girl I met on the road isn't a psychotic vampire. In fact she's rather charming, I like her. Beautiful, too. She is the girl that my brother, Stefan, is so hung up about; enough so that he never saw me as I stood watching him, as he watched her. This whole summer I had been laying low and biding my time, waiting for the opportune moment to make my appearance. I hadn't, recently, been very discreet about my current residence in Mystic Falls, leaving mangled bodies lying around here, there and everywhere. To someone in the dark about the world of supernatural, they would analyse them and conclude 'animal attack'.

Stefan hadn't been too thrilled when I arrived at the Salvatore boarding house, admittedly I had threatened his new girl and insulted the bunny diet, but let bygones be bygones. I haven't talked to Elena since that night at the bonfire, but I did spook her a _little_ in the graveyard. I wouldn't hurt her, I was too curious and she intrigued me.

I had died for Katherine, as had my brother, yet we turned into vampires anyway, roaming the earth since 1864. Yet another reason for hating my brother... He had forced me to turn all those years ago, I hadn't wanted to and now I was a monster, a man with no redeemable qualities and a heart of stone. Unloving and unloved for over a century, barring Charlotte, but she was sired to me so I don't count it.

The last few days have been rather entertaining and mostly consisted of making my brother's life a living hell. He deserved it. I would do everything in my power to make him suffer as much as I have; if that meant getting to him through Elena? So be it. She won't remember our meeting because I compelled her to forget, forcing those memories away and giving back a clean slate. It was only the day after that I found out about the car crash on Wickery Bridge, no matter what my brother thinks, I had nothing to do with it.

I am now stronger than ever, freshly topped up on the human stuff and contemplating what my next move may be. That blonde friend of Elena might hold the key to wheedling my way into the town's business; I might stay awhile, and what better way to kick it off, then by 'befriending' the sheriff's daughter? Oh, and it would also annoy Stefan. Definitely an added bonus.

I decide to go over to the Mystic Grill- local pub-slash-bar-slash-bourbon supplying place. Dumping yet another corpse on the roadside and leaving her car abandoned on the verge, I use my vampire speed and head into town, wiping the blood away from my chin as I go. As soon as I reach my destination, I summon my crow; the eyes and ears that supply me with my knowledge. I send it off in search of Stefan and head into the building, winding my way through tables and chairs before sliding onto one of the stools next to the bar itself. After compelling the bartender to simply hand over a bottle of my favourite alcoholic beverage, I open up my sensitive hearing to see if I can detect any juicy town gossip. When I hear a familiar voice, I again have to stop myself from gasping in shock; it isn't Katherine.

From the sound of it, she's sitting outside at a table with her two friends; the blonde control chick and the happy-go-lucky Bennett witch that doesn't even realise what she is. I roll my eyes when their conversation turns to Stefan and simply go back to drowning my sorrows the only way I know how, yet still keeping a wavering brain cell on the argument that is starting to build between the three _bffs._

"_Boy likes girl, girl likes boy. Sex."_

I snort; the blonde isn't anything if not direct. Elena replies with a simple '_Profound' _but based on the silence that follows, she's actually thinking about what the control-freak has said. What slightly startles me is the fact that she then makes to get up and search for Stefan, saying that she is going to do what she had started the day wanting to do. Pfft. Teenagers. However, this little decision made by Katherine 2.0 has opened a window of opportunity. Time for my grand entrance. Mission 'annoy Stefan as much as humanly or vampirely possible' is a go.

I wait until they have all left and there is no chance of them seeing me, before speeding over to the boarding house. We've had this place for years, occasionally stopping by for old time's sake, but never staying for any large period of time- it is now run by my 'uncle' Zac, although he is probably more like my great-grandnephew or something. He's human and lives there, keeping to himself and disapproving of my lifestyle immensely; now that I think about it, I think he would dis-like me anyway even if I were human. It's fine; the hatred is mutual.

I figure since I've got here well before Elena, I could set up a little. Nothing _too_ dramatic, but just enough to freak her out slightly. Come to think of it, it's rather cliché; crow, opening door and mysterious fire, but it'll have to do. I hear her car from a mile off, revving out fumes and crackling over gravel. Showtime. I mentally smile, both happy to have something to do and, surprisingly, looking forward to actually seeing her again. There's something about her that I can't quite get out of my head- I settle for the label 'curiosity', hoping and praying that it's nothing more. Someone had once told me _that humanity is a vampire's greatest weakness_ and I'm not about to let myself forget it anytime soon.

I stand out of sight inside, counting the footfalls that lead up to the oaken door. She knocks and calls out for my brother. He isn't here; I've made sure of that by attacking the girl in the woods- being careful to leave her alive so that a fuss will be made and Stefan will be forced to pick up the pieces. The likelihood is that he is off there now, attempting to silence her in the nicest way possible, but we both know he isn't nearly strong enough for that. Bambi blood does _not _give you super powers.

I've left the door slightly ajar so that she can simply walk in; she doesn't disappoint. Seeing her again sends a tiny wave of something coursing through me, just small enough so that I can quench and ignore it. She gazes around the hallway and steps ever closer to the lounge, intrigued by the beam ceilings and ancient canvases that fill the walls. After taking a moment to adjust to her surroundings, she seems to realise that her favourite Salvatore brother isn't in the building and so she turns and starts walking back to the now fully open door. When she's just two metres from the threshold I call telepathically for my crow and in it comes, claws outstretched and screeching. Gasping, she turns back around and I speed out to close the front door and then come to a halt in front of her so that she nearly collides with my leather-clad form.

Ha. Shock lines her face and I smirk, gleeful at the reaction I had expected and turn my head to the side, eager to hear what she'll say next and what excuse she'll provide. What I haven't planned for was the small smile that spreads across her mouth and the confusion and dis-belief that stares out of her eyes. No ha, I guess. She opens her mouth and the single word that comes from it, mixed with the recognition in her tone, surprises me more than the other two points- on my ever increasing list- put together.

"_Damon?"_


	3. Chapter 2

**A/N: Thanks for all the reviews, follows and favourites! Sorry for taking so long to write each chapter (I'm focussing more on 'Turn it Off' before the start of season 6). Special thanks to my beta, Aishwarya (Elena Gilbert 1992), great job as usual! Please continue to leave feedback, it makes my day to see just how many people are reading this.**

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**Chapter 2.**

_Elena's POV_

I turn to face the door, leaving because it's clear that nobody is home. When I am just two paces from the threshold, a crow- or at least I think it's a crow- comes at me. Its talons are outstretched and its eyes are like voids, visible through the brief encounter. I automatically turn back around, away from the imminent danger and come face to face with someone I never thought I would see again. The shock of seeing him outweighs that of the bird, and so, I smile. Because my whole situation is just that bizarre.

"_Damon_?" I ask, and search his face.

His hair is black- not too different from the crow's feathers- and his eyes are an enchanting, deep shade of blue. I don't know why I'm even asking; of course it's him. I see that leather is still his clothing preference, even though the days are warm and it's technically still summer. He wears the same smirk that graced his features when we first met, however, that smirk is quickly disappearing from his face as we stand here.

"Um… hey, how are you?" I ask -because I am just that sophisticated and good at starting conversations with people I hardly know.

The look he wears suggests confusion, but there seems to be something deeper. Fear? He doesn't look the type to get scared. I take a step towards him and smile again. Still confusion. Maybe he doesn't remember who I am? The hypothesis that he was drunk may have been an accurate assumption on my part, that night on the road, at the start of the summer break. The night my parents died. At the thought, my smile falters and the common feeling of holding back tears overwhelms me; my throat clenches, my hands become clammy and shake ever so slightly, as they hang by my sides.

As soon as it arrives, it's gone again. I need to get over it. My original objective for coming to the Salvatore boarding house was to try and do just that. Stefan isn't here, so I should just leave. I give Damon a courtesy nod and begin to turn away, although I'm not sure he saw it because it looks as though he checked out a while ago, eyes searching memories rather than the reality that surrounds him. Out of my peripheral, I see his head shake fractionally, as if brushing away a thought.

"Wait-" he rushes out, speaking before he thought about what he was going to say, breathless, as if having been for a run.

I give him my attention and listen to what he wants to tell me. His expression is still unnerving; brow furrowed in concentration and an unmoving mask that suggests I have three eyes, and only _recently_ ascended from a different planet. From my view, it looks like _he_ is the mayor of crazy town, not me.

"I… Did Stefan tell you about me?" he asks, bewildered.

I close my eyes and shake my head in exasperation. Why did all the good ones have to turn out mental?

"No, I… I don't think so."

He stares at me for a moment longer and makes a noise that sounds half way between an 'Oh' and a sigh, before turning and slowly walking back down the hallway and into the living room, which has a large ceiling with its large open fire and whiskey cabinet that I noticed earlier. The alcohol might explain his mental state. I take steps into the lounge, watching his every movement. No stumbling, crashing or un-balanced behaviour. Odd. Drunks usually sway at least a _little_.

"So, do you live here?" I gaze around and eventually settle for a worn armchair, perching on the armrest, crossing one leg over the other, and leaning backwards into air.

I try to look sophisticated- I doubt it's worked. But, he now seems to have snapped out of it, and is a lot quicker to respond this time round.

"Yeah, I guess I do… now." he murmurs, and I catch a hint of amusement in his tone, along with the smirk I had originally been expecting.

He walks over and sits on the sofa, hands clasped, leaning forward so that he hunches, and meets my eyes. Yet again, the astonishing shade of blue startles me and I have to stop a gasp from escaping between my lips.

"When and where did we meet exactly?" he asks.

I give him raised eyebrows. Okay. Maybe I should turn and run. This guy is weird. I'll just have to give some kind of excuse.

"Sorry… I just struggle to remember sometimes" he mutters, although he doesn't say it very convincingly.

I decide to just go along with it. He obviously doesn't remember me; either too drunk, or our meeting was just so irrelevant to him, that it slipped his mind altogether. The last thought hurts slightly, although I'm not sure why.

"At the start of the summer. In the middle of the road, actually…" I muse and unintentionally, my thoughts stray to that night, but instead of the horrors I usually associate with it, I simply remember my meeting with Damon.

I was drunk- or very 'tipsy'- and had wandered out onto the road, waiting for my parents after getting into an argument with my ex-boyfriend (current at the time), Matt. Damon had appeared from seemingly nowhere, believing that I was someone else; we had got talking. I had thought about him quite a lot through the days that followed, clinging to that last conversation before everything changed, before my life turned upside down. He had wanted me to get everything I was looking for; although that seems pretty unlikely now, when I have lost two of the people that I loved most in this world. Later on in my grief spiral, I had all but forgotten about him; which is why I am so surprised to see him now, believing him to have skipped town, I had given up on the chance meeting around the Mystic Grill or village green.

He makes that noise again, the one halfway between a sigh and an 'Oh', before straightening his spine and frowning. The action forms little lines on his forehead, that I somehow find quite adorable; like a toddler when they discover something knew, but don't quite understand it.

"So you're Stefan's…" I wait for him to finish the sentence for me.

"Brother." he replies.

"Older brother." he corrects, as if to remind himself more than anything.

I am taken aback, although I shouldn't be. I didn't know what I expected him to say; he is far too young to be an uncle, but maybe a cousin? He looks nothing like Stefan at all; different colour eyes, hair and build. Damon is more subtle in his appearance; very good looking, but he doesn't flounce it as most people his age probably would. There is something about him that is oddly appealing; dangerous, even.

"He never mentioned you…" I say, letting my mind wander back through my conversations with Stefan.

There was never the mention of a brother, which is odd, because I did ask him. I guess he didn't directly _deny_ it- he just said he never talked to any siblings that he may or may not have had. Damon turns his head and gives me yet another quizzical look, and I think I hear him mutter something under his breath, that sounds like "Then how?..." How what?

"Look, Damon. It was really um… great to see you again. I didn't mean to intrude… or anything. Maybe I'll see you around?" I smile, because it would honestly be nice to see him, even though his behaviour today is puzzling to say the least.

I turn towards the exit for what must be the tenth time, and suddenly he appears right in front of me. This of course is impossible, because two seconds ago, he was over there, sat on the sofa. I am _really _having a day of it.

"It was nice to meet you Elena… again" he said the last word almost phrased like a question, laced with uncertainty.

He slowly brings his lips down to meet my raised hand, in an old gentlemanly gesture from times past. His lips are soft, delicate and not at all what I was expecting. Not that I as suspecting anything in the first place, of course. I hope that last thought doesn't bring any colour to my face…

His ear seems to twitch and a pre-rehearsed smirk, less playful and more menacing, appears on his carved face. Dropping my hand carefully, he looks past me and focuses in on something.

"It's rude to eavesdrop, brother." He speaks up, glee in his tone of voice.

I look over my shoulder to see Stefan standing behind me, avoiding my eyes. He looks only at Damon. Veiled behind the surface of those eyes is a hatred, a hatred so deep, that it makes me squirm and shiver under the intensity, even though it isn't directed at me. I have never seen him like this.

"Stefan. Hey!" I smile at him, yet still he does not turn from the staring competition he seems to have one-sidedly engaged in.

"Don't call me that." he whispers.

"What?" I ask, confused.

"I'm not your brother," He says, and quieter still, "That title died a _long_ time ago."

The hatred behind his eyes becomes stronger. Why does he hate Damon so much? His own brother? What has happened to make them like this? The questions go unanswered, simmering in the back of my mind as I walk up to my boyfriend (kinda).

"Look, hey. I just came by to see you, but you weren't in so…" I trail off when I see he isn't going to answer anyway.

This finally gives me a window to back down from my spontaneous idea of spending the day with the younger Salvatore. Caroline and Bonnie would understand… well maybe not Care after all.

I walk past him and catch a glimpse of Damon in my peripheral, not seeming to care about being 'mind bulleted' at all. He just watches me leave. A small smile twitches at the corner of his mouth, a genuine one. I raise my hand in a silent goodbye, and I receive a small nod in return. He's a mystery, all right.

I decide that they need their time. They need to sort out whatever rift is dividing them and find a way to cross it. I shouldn't get involved. I close the door behind me and step down to my car, still parked in the shade of a large oak.

Unlucky for them, I have journalist instincts-I can't stay out the loop for long.


	4. Chapter 3

**A/N: Hey everyone! I know its been a while since I updated, so to make it up to you, this chapter is slightly longer then the rest of them. Huge thanks to my Beta, ElenaGilbert1992, who gave me the idea for the ending to this chapter, please go and check out her fics too! As always, follow, favourite and review! **

**Much love,**

**Burnee x**

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**Chapter 3**

_Damon's POV_

I slowly turn to face my brother, my gaze is reluctant to leave the door that she has just left through. His hair is less ordered than usual and a faint smudge of black under his eyes indicates his clear exhaustion. Whilst most vampires are pale, Stefan now looks like paper. The hollows beneath his cheek-bones are deeper, aging his appearance by several years. The slouch in his usually firm posture hints at his whereabouts and activities. At least my suspicions are true; he was at the hospital.

I simply can't help myself. I smirk.

Before I know what's happening, and before I can prepare or defend myself, his fist has connected with my jaw, sending a resounding 'snap' throughout the room. I manage to stop myself from taking a step back, but I do move my hand up to cradle my chin, as the last of the sickly echo reverberates down from the domed ceiling.

I pinch at my bone and it cracks back into place, an excruciating pain hits me, but I don't even flinch; I have been through a _lot_ worse. He is looking at me with a mixture of disgust and hatred, eyebrows pulled together so that they nearly touch. The look is not a stranger to his face; I have been glared at so many times now that I can hardly picture him without it. With a small surge of satisfaction, I see him shake his wrist out a little; the blow obviously hurt him too.

"Wow brother… I didn't know you had it in you," I state, my sarcasm being given away only by the slight curl in my upper lip that I just have no control over; a reflex from countless years of goading him on.

He takes a step in my direction, but if it is meant to intimidate me, it doesn't have quite the desired effect. I stay rooted to the spot. His face is now only inches from mine, close enough that I can see the lighter flecks in his irises to a high definition.

"What did you do to her?" he whispers, all harsh pretence gone, worry and pain softening his tense brow.

I stare back at him, trying not to let the shock I feel register on my face. He is upset. He is _genuinely _upset, but furthermore, he thinks I've done something. I can hardly say I blame him, and yet, this look of betrayal is less familiar; harder for me to comprehend and react to then the anger. Somewhere in my 'defying the stereotype'-beating heart, it hurts.

"I, brother dearest, have done absolutely nothing to your little Katherine wanabee," he flinches at the pet name.

Anger flares up behind his hazel eyes again, and I have to stop myself from sighing or eye rolling; this, at least, _is_ familiar territory. Back on track. All is well with the world.

"Then how the hell does she know who you are?" he asks, voice rising.

I somehow stop myself from smirking and actually think. Not thirty seconds ago, I too had been blown over by this notion. She shouldn't remember me, it shouldn't be possible. But, then again, vampires exist. _Possibilities_ are relatively infinite; it is dependant on those that make the _choices_, as to which ones become reality.

"You never said anything about me? Never told her my name, about my dashing good looks, about me being a vampir—" I'm cut short by his sudden intake of breath.

"You told her about vampires?" he exhales immediately, panic etching lines across his forehead.

I raise a finger to stop him, savouring the terrified look he now wears, building as I let the seconds go on. I breathe in and he flinches back.

I lean in and whisper, my mouth is close to his ear; "Not _yet."_

"You wouldn't" he replies, voice strong, "too much of a _coward_" he spits the word out as if it is poison.

"Oh Stefan, believe me; I _would_" I grind out between my teeth.

He has no right to call me a coward; he, who wasn't even brave enough to let me die, to live alone without his brother, to stand up against our father. I turn on my heel, the sole scraping up against the wooden boards, and walk swiftly towards the staircase.

I can feel his eyes on me, as I stop myself from taking the steps two at a time. The pent-up frustration of unanswered questions has my head in a spin. I need to cool off and mull things over before I kill something, or _someone_.

I enter my own room, closing the door behind me, barely able to resist slamming it like some sulking teenager. The room is mostly bare, for I haven't been here more than a couple of days. Home hasn't really been a concept to me in the past century, but the boarding house is as close as I have come to that title. The sweet, yet bitter smell of bourbon lingers, mixing with the scent of pine that comes in from the open window. The thin white curtains move with the air flow, freeing themselves from the cobwebs that have built up. My crow perches on the oaken railing that lies beyond the glass, silently glaring at me. I reach out to close the window, locking the handle back into place, too distracted by everything that is going on.

The earth hasn't stopped turning, the winds blow, and yet, Elena remembers. It defies all the laws of supernatural (not that there are any). There are three possible answers; 1. Stefan is a big fat liar, 2. Elena is a vampire, or 3. She had vervain. It takes me all of millisecond to rule out number two- call it gut instinct, or the fact that I could hear the beat of her heart and the rush of blood moving through her veins; the allure of a feed only really present in the company of humans.

I walk over to my bed and jump on top of it, rolling onto my back and placing my hands under my head, resting comfortably on the cotton pillows. I promised myself before I returned to Mystic Falls that I wouldn't care. I can't let that happen, not again. The last time I gave my love, whole and irresponsibly, it got ruined and torn away from me. _Katherine_. That is one of the main reasons why I hate my brother. A woman, coming between the Salvatore brothers. We were, once upon a time, united. Mutually united against our father, although Stefan never voiced his views about our sole parent. He was always the favourite.

Dust dances towards me through the rays of sunlight, warming my face. I can walk in the sun and not turn into a diamond coated mannequin, all thanks to my magic ring. I hold it up in the light, encompassing my right index finger. Without it I _could_ burn in the sun, burn and die. Salvatores 1, Cullens 0- although tanning is another matter entirely. The real truth about vampires would frighten just about anyone, which is probably why dear old Stefan doesn't want me gossiping to Elena about whether A positive or B negative is the better blood type (B negative all the way in my own personal opinion).

But why would Elena have vervain? _That_ is a very good question. Stefan's reaction was too genuine to mean that he was lying; Drama was never one of his strong subjects, though that has never stopped me from calling him a 'Drama-queen' when the situation calls for it.

I sit up from my mattress and turn my legs so that they hang over the side of the wooden bed frame. I need a drink. A strong one. I move swiftly from my room and traverse the stair-case, leading into my favourite room; mostly because it contains the alcohol. I pour myself a glass, clutching at the fine crystal before downing it in one. I shudder, letting the warm liquid run its course down my throat. If I was going to get answers, I would need to quench the cravings- no sudden snatch-eat-_maybe_-erase.

If Elena has vervain it could mean that she already knows about the existence of vampires. The problem with that, is that she has a vamp boyfriend. If she really knew the tricks of the trade, then she would have realised that by now. I pour another drink and down it in the same fashion as its predecessor. Walking over to the stone fireplace, I set the glass on the mantelpiece and crouch.

Some wood, sticks and a match later, I sit in my favourite armchair. Vampires don't feel temperatures, so the fire does nothing to warm me. Bizarrely, it helps me think. The steady flicker of orange, yellow and red, accompanied with the odd flourish of white, calms me. The rise and fall of the flames look as if it were breathing; a living creature. A substance that is so powerful, and yet so majestic. Fire, whilst being the true garlic to most vampires, is beautiful to me.

As with my current situation- which I should _not_ get involved in- the old saying comes to mind; _if you play with fire, you're going to get burned. _

Resting back on the headrest, my mind churning – though oddly clearer from the alcohol consumption- I plot. Boredom is one of my few weaknesses, for I require constant action and-slash-or amusement. Mere pranking sounds too childish, and due to the lack of blood in my system, I don't have enough energy to compel anyone into a compromising situation; amusing as it often is.

But then again… There is always Elena.

I'm aware that Stefan is still in the boarding house, though asleep or not, I cannot tell. He is suspicious enough of me as it stands, so I decide to walk to her house, rather than risk being found out if I take the Camaro- as beautiful as that car is, it has one hell of a backfire.

I wander down the road, lit only by the sliver of moon that is still visible in the sky. Out here, with trees on either side of me, it is possible to believe that I am the only one alive. It is possible to forget about pain and heart-break; focussing only on the steady pulse of stars, littering the veil of black that spreads out above me. Sometimes, I will just lie, limbs spread and let my mind go blank; the only company being the occasional owl that sometimes perches in one of the evergreens. That was how I had been when I first saw her. When I first saw Elena.

Having moved silently through the bushes that surround her house, I now crouch low, almost cat-like. The dim reflection of a streetlight hits off all but one the windows- the open one, free from the mirrored surface, and the one I sit directly under. I know it's her room that it guards, because I can hear faint snoring drifting out into the still night- distinctly female snoring. I smirk. I didn't know she snored, but then again, why would I?

I take a breath in, leap into the air and land lightly on the windowsill, two stories up- the perks of being a vampire. The curtains are drawn, wafting gently outwards in the summer air. I reach a hand towards them, balancing on my toes, and move them aside; giving me a visual into her room. I look around curiously. Surprisingly, it's not what I was expecting. There are pictures that sit atop her bookshelf, which, itself, is crammed full of novels, all clearly dog-eared from being read often. The pictures hold images of what I can only assume are her parents and brother, and a good half contain her with the two best-friends, giggling in a mixture of poses and expressions. The one that catches my eye is the frame that stands on her bedside table, clearly new by no other fact then that it holds a picture of her and Stefan sitting on a bench, smiling in the warm sun's rays. The decorations in the room are more tom-boyish then I would have pegged her for, and a large painting of a horse hangs in the middle of one wall.

The queen sized bed is situated in the middle of the carpet, large enough so that the human form is nearly unnoticeable. She is turned away from the window, brown hair spilling over the pillow. She sleeps curled up in a foetus shape and the sound of her breathing is louder still.

I lean forward, ready to pull myself through, and stop, and swear. An invisible wall halts my progress. I groan, placing both hands against the barrier in frustration. I haven't been invited in.

My plan will still work, though it will use more energy doing it from seven metres away. I sit, back pressed to the barrier and close my eyes in concentration, letting my feet dangle off into space. I seek out her mind, the light- if you will- and push my thoughts into her dreams.

I'm going to get more than just burned. I'm going to get charred to a _crisp._


	5. Chapter 4

**A/N: Hey everyone! Long time no see I guess. I've had this chapter drafted for a while now, but have only just had a minute to go back over it and change a couple of things. Mega sorry for taking so long! TVD still hasn't returned to the U.K screens but we wait and hope... I can't promise another chapter for a while because I have exams coming up and I'm guaranteed a busy year, but come summer I'll right you all a bloody novel! Please do Review if you have a minute, it means the world to hear that people are reading and, often, enjoying my writing. **

**Until then my fellow vamps, Burnee x**

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**_Chapter 4._**

Elena's POV.

_Someone is here. They are staring right at me. I don't need to see them. I can sense them._

_Everywhere I turn, there is only gloom and mist, and I am blind as to my whereabouts. I feel goosebumps break out over my body as I stand there in nothing but my pyjamas, shivering in the cold air. I wrap my arms around myself and focus, squinting into the dark that surrounds me on all sides. _

_At first all I can see is a silhouette, becoming clearer and clearer by the second as it moves towards me. I blink, unnerved by the sudden appearance of someone in this strange place. I take a step back, my eyes widening in fear. First, I notice the eyes; as blue and turbulent as the winter sky. Then I see his hair, his lips, his high cheekbones and strong jaw. His pale face is a shocking contrast to the darkness that threatens to consume his figure, standing out like the moon would on a clear evening. I take a few hesitant steps towards him, squinting into the unrelenting night._

_"__Damon?" I whisper, the quiet sound seeming louder in the unnatural stillness of our surroundings._

_Without replying or breathing a word, he brings a single finger to his lips. I slow my breathing in an attempt to stop any noise from leaving me. I frown in confusion, giving him a pointed look._

_I see him gesture slowly behind me, so I turn, searching for something that I clearly hadn't seen before. At first, I can't tell what it is. To me, it looks like a large rock. But then I focus, and it becomes a man._

_He is crouched over, facing in the other direction, as still as if he were made of marble. The fog swirls around him, caressing his hunched up body. Even as the person's form becomes clearer in the half-light it's difficult to distinguish who it is. I take a step closer, unsure of what to do. Why would Damon show me this?_

_I move towards the man, but a figure suddenly blocks my path. I nearly collide with him, surprised by the speed in which he has appeared. I have to look up to see his face. Damon._

_"__I wouldn't do that if I were you" he says, brow furrowed, looking into my eyes with pity._

_I glance over his shoulder to see the last of the murkiness move away and my vision becomes clear. Damon follows my line of sight and sighs a long and drawn out breath, curling upwards in wisps of white. Then the person isn't just crouched; they are crouched over something, but more importantly, _someone.

_I move around Damon's large frame and walk shakily over to where the person is knelt. I place a hand on their shoulder, attempting to turn their face towards me, but even as their shoulders turn I can tell it's in vain. I can't see their face- it evades me; like the image is torn from my brain every time I get a fix on it. It's like my subconscious refuses to believe what my eyes are telling me is right there._

_I look down to the floor where a body lies, lain out before us. I stifle a scream, when on closer inspection I can see that there are two small holes on his neck, blood trickles from them, harsh against the white of his skin. It's Jeremy, my brother. Then I see another body next to him. It's Bonnie. And another. Caroline. And another. Aunt Jenna. Then Matt. Then my parents. All lying dead, drained of blood. Lined up, like cattle that have been slaughtered. _

_I turn wide eyed to look at the person's face, but this time I _can_ see it, clear as day. His eyes are red, underlined by pulsating veins. His teeth are long and sharp, and he has blood trailing from the corners of his mouth. My brain can't process what I'm seeing. I stand up, but this time I'm not shaking from the cold._

_I look behind me, suddenly afraid. Dread reverberates through me and my gut is clenched tight. I feel sick. Damon is not there anymore, I see only a black shape moving further and further away from me and I can hear the unmistakable sound of pounding wings. I'm alone. I'm alone with this monster. My heart begins to beat quicker with each step as I begin to run. _

_I must get away._

_I must._

_But running doesn't help me. The face that had evaded my conscious like oil on water was now burned into my mind. It will be there forever. _

_"__You know what he is" a breath whispers in my ear._

_I can't help it. This time I do scream. _

_I scream, not because of the monster chasing me, fangs out. Not because all my loved ones lay dead, drained of blood. No. I scream, because it's him. The one I trusted. _

_I scream, because it's Stefan._

I sit bolt upright in bed, trying to suck air into my lungs, choking, spluttering, disorientated.

I'm in my bed, in my room, in my house. There are no bodies, I can hear Jere's snoring.

"It wasn't real. It wasn't real. It wasn't real." I repeat over and over, muttering under my breath, rocking back and forth on my mattress as my arms cradle my knees.

I hear a tap at the window and gasp, flinching. In the light cast from one of the street lights I can see there is nothing there. And yet, still my hands tremble and my eyes take on moisture. So I close them, shutting out the view of my room, stopping the images in my imagination and continue my chant. Where had that come from? I hadn't had nightmares like that since my parents died.

"It's not real. It's not real. Stop crying! I'm sick of crying!" I yell at myself, covering my face with my hands and forcefully rubbing them against my eyes to stop the tears that refuse to go away.

"It was just a dream. You were dreaming." I whisper.

I open my eyes, blinking as my vision adjusts, and immediately wish I hadn't.

"Elena?" he asks, perched on the corner of my bed. "Are you okay?"

Red eyes, pulsating veins and gleaming white fangs. I whimper. The tears are back with a vengeance.

"G- Get aw- away from me" I mumble, stumbling over my words as I try to distance myself from him as much as possible.

He shouldn't be here. How did he get in here? I was alone. I was asleep. Where's Damon? Where's Jeremy? Where's Jenna? I can't be alone with him. I can't.

"Elena, hey. Wake up. Elena, you're dreaming. You need to wake up."

That's not his voice. That's not Stefan's voice. But then who is it? He is still there, sitting on my bed. He looks hungry. He looks poised to strike. But it's not his voice.

I feel a pressure on my shoulder and some semblance of darkness leaves my mind like sludge. Everything goes black.

I wake up in my room, again. But this time it's light; rays of sunshine stream in through the window, a gentle breeze blows in and traffic from nearby roads can be heard.

"Elena." A hand moves in front of my face and clicks twice. "Hey. You were dreaming. You were shouting out in your sleep." When I don't reply, the annoyed look on his face softens. "Look, are you going to be okay?"

I sit up straighter and shake my head to clear out the haze. It was the cliché dream within a dream. I'm back to reality now. I'm home.

"Yeah, I'm fine Jere. Sorry to have woken you. I… It was just a nightmare. That's all. It wasn't real." That last part was said more to myself.

"Well, I guess I'll see you downstairs." He continued to look at me; hair sweeping over his forehead, longer than it had been in a while- the same dark brown as mine. I should take him to the hairdressers. This time I manage a half-smile.

"Yeah, sure. Thanks Jere."

I squeeze his hand in reassurance.

He nods at me, clearly only half convinced of my sanity. I hear his footfall on the stairs and let go of the breath I have been holding. That was one freaky nightmare. It felt more real than usual. Normally I forget my dreams pretty quickly, rushed away in my everyday life, I have no time to linger on the make-believe. But not this one. No, this one runs deeper than any other.

I get dressed, taking my time on the little things, mulling the images over in my head. There was something about it that felt _too _real. Unnatural. I grab my jacket off the back of the chair and head down stairs, out of the house.

"I'm going to the Grill for breakfast Jere, I'll see you later kay?" I half wave as I make my way through the kitchen and front door.

Stepping outside into the morning air I stop for a minute and just stand, looking out across the street. "Not real" I mutter, pulling my thoughts back and setting off down the path. "Not real. Let it go Elena."

As I pass through the gate I pull out my phone, dialling in a number without even thinking and wait as it rings.

"Hey Chica! How are you?" Bonnie picked up after the fourth chime, just as I was about to give up my madness.

"Hey Bon, I'm okay I guess. What do you say to a morning coffee at the Grill, my treat?" I ask.

"Yeah, on my way." Her voice softens and I can hear the scuffle of keys. "You sure you're okay though? You just sound kinda tense or something."

I sigh and decide then and there to confide in her. It was just a stupid dream. No big deal.

"Yeah, I guess. I- you know- umm…" I try to figure out what to say without sounding too deluded.

"Elena, come on! I'm your best friend; just say what you want to say!"

I take another breath.

"You know how you were saying you were like a witch or something?"

"Umm… Yeah?" she replies, as if asking a question rather than giving an answer.

"Well, I was just wandering… If witches exist… Do you think that maybe other supernatural stuff does too?"

"I don't know… My Grams was always the one with the crackpot theories. What were you thinking of exactly?" she asks, clearly very confused at my line of questioning, but being the good friend she is, she doesn't judge.

I answer with one word. It all feels very twilight-esc, though I would rather die than compare myself to Bella Swan.

"_Vampires_."


	6. Chapter 5

**A/N: **Hey everybody. Sorry for taking so long to write, but today I found myself ill and unable to do much but type and think, so Ta-da! I have a really busy year of school, so not much from me until Summer- sorry! I had fun writing this chapter- I can totally relate to Damon's sarcastic attitude. Please follow and favourite, and if you have time please review too! Enjoy- Burnee x

(A few days on from originally posting this now- thank you so much for the reviews, they really made my week. :)

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**Chapter 5**

_Damon's POV_

Yes, yes guilty as charged, but who's really going to lock me up? Hint hint; not the Volturi, and, yes, I do know who they are. Though between you and me, they're not_ real_. I, on the other hand, am very real. I'm also a dab hand at creating dreams. Yup. That was me. If you hadn't already guessed.

This is going to be fun.

Kitty Kat 2.0 has just this minute walked into the Mystic Grill, dressed for school, but looking a little worse for wear on the whole not really sleeping issue. And she's with the Bennett witch. And they're talking about vampires. Oops. Stefan is _not_ gonna be pleased with little ol' me.

I can't take all the credit though. It's up to her now. If she wants to find out that vampires are real then that's her call. I ain't gonna stop her. This is the most interesting my life has been for _years_.

I wave for service from the pretty brown haired waitress, wearing the dark blue top of the Grille. She looks a couple of years older than Elena, and is supporting a shiny nametag that reads 'Vicky'. I order waffles. (I have a slight fetish. For the waffles, not waitresses… though…)

"Sorry, we don't have any. Could I get you some pancakes instead?" she asks, nervously.

I freeze for a second, but it seems to go unnoticed.

"That would be lovely, thank you," I purr, trying to make up for my moment of weakness.

I can't keep acting like that. I shouldn't be scared of something that comes topped with syrup and blueberries.

I get the predicted blush and upwards tilt of the lips before she clears off to get my breakfast.

I'm sitting in one of the corners, the wall to my back, my legs propped on the opposite chair. I have a clear view of the Gilbert girl, who has chosen to sit over on the opposite side of the room. The Grille has quickly become my favourite spot in town, not least because of its ironic name.

"It was weird, Bonnie. Like, it was almost _too_ real," I could hear her, even from here.

"Well I'm kind of new to this fantasy stuff, but I can ask my Grams. I think you need to do some more digging," her friend said back, an almost mocking tone in her voice.

"Wait, you're serious?"

"Yeah, why the hell not? Elena! Don't look at me like _I'm_ the crazy one. You're the one telling me that you had a dream about your hottie boyfriend- which in normal circumstances I would _not_ want to hear about by the way- and that he's a freaking vampire! And somehow _I'm_ the strange one in this possie"

"Yeah, you're right, sorry. It was just so strange, you know? Like I was really there. You were the one telling me you're a witch," she said, smiling now.

Bonnie rolled her eyes.

"There's a reason we call them nightmares," Bonnie said, smiling. "But I'll still ask Grams for you if you want? If I'm a witch…"

Now they're both giggling. Ugh. Stupid. Teenagers. Not. Even. Funny.

Humans refuse to admit to what they see right in front of them- it's such a bore. My frown, however, turns upside down when I see a very familiar person in my peripheral, appearing in the entrance. I almost laugh when I see the blonde trailing my brother like a love-sick puppy, trying desperately to get his attention. He's polite enough, sure, but it's pretty obvious that he isn't the tiniest bit interested. Bless. She's even twirling her finger in her hair.

Elena stands up quickly when she sees her new visitor, causing her chair to grate against the ground. She looks surprised.

"Stefan! Hey," she says. "We were just finishing our coffees. What are you doing here?" she asks, though it sounds more demanding than the usual greetings tend to be.

She doesn't want him hear. Interesting. The brown-eyed waitress appears again, carrying a steaming plate. I nod in thanks, and it doesn't pass my notice that, since her last visit, she's reapplied her mascara. She walks off swaying her hips, and I tuck my napkin into my top, eyeing her with interest.

"I was just um… Looking for you," Stefan says after a long pause.

I adjust my concentration.

"Oh, well. You found me," she replies, taking out a ten dollar bill and laying it firmly on the table.

"Caroline, hey," Bonnie says, picking up her bag, as if just realising she was there, and moving swiftly round to grab her friend's arm. "We'll see you there, kay Elena?" she says, looking at Stefan in a hinting gesture, so only Elena could see.

"But, I was going to-"

"Great! I'll see you in class. Bye Stefan," and with that the two girls left in a hurry, one looking seriously miffed and the other supporting a grin that boasted of being the best match-maker to ever walk the planet.

I watch as my brother and his girl stand awkwardly, both looking out in desire to where the others have just left. Stefan's the first to talk, though he seems nervous about something.

"Are you okay?" he asks, reaching his hand out.

He clearly doesn't miss the slight flinch Elena gives before accepting it, loosely taking it in her own before reaching down and retrieving her own bag from the floor.

"Yeah, why wouldn't I be?" she says, brushing it off.

"No reason. Just wondering. I- You haven't seen my brother anywhere have you?" he asks, carefully.

"Um… Yeah I have actually. He's been sitting over there for the last ten minutes."

She turns to look at me, gesturing. I choke, spluttering. I give credit where credit is due- the kid's got a talent.

I regain my composure and look up, trying to act casual, to see my brother fixing me with a stare equal to the one he gave me yesterday. I cough, muttering '_Ripper'_ under my breath. I really can't seem to help myself, probably to the point where I need help. I give them one of those half-wave finger-waggle things. The frown lines become impossibly deeper.

Elena's smiling at me, but it stops as soon as she sees Stefan's face.

"Hey," she says, moving in front of him, letting go of his hand, so she blocks his view of me, "what is _with _you two? What the hell has he done to make you hate him so much?"

"Not here," is his only reply.

"Then where Stefan? When? I need you to be honest with me, okay? No more secrets."

"What secrets? What has he been saying to you?" he asks, voice louder, moving his head to get a look at my reaction.

I give nothing away and, just to irritate him further, I pick up a newspaper and pretend to read, once again obscuring my face from view.

"Nothing. He's said nothing. I haven't talked to him since I was at your house yesterday. As for secrets; telling me you even _had_ a brother would be a start."

"I never said I didn't-"

"No, but you never said you _did,_" she says.

She pauses. "Look, I'm sorry. I didn't sleep well- I'm tired- I'm cranky, and I'm taking it out on you. Let's just forget it, okay."

"Unfortunately for you, brother, she can't be compelled. Arguments are here to stay," I mutter in a sing-song way, before folding my newspaper and looking over at them.

Stefan brings their hands together again, before moving them up to his lips, looking me in the eye the whole time. I'm sick in my mouth.

Whilst doing this he moves her slightly so that she can no longer see our exchange. I give him my best smile. He smiles back, though it looks more like he's in pain- like, serious pain. He needs to get that fixed.

"Touché, brother. Touché," I whisper, knowing he can still hear me.

He looks smug as they prepare to leave.

"But I'd try asking her about the _really_ scary nightmare she had last night, which you featured in rather handsomely, might I add. One of my best pieces. I really think I captured your eyes, oh, and your mouth, _of course_. And maybe even your teeth, I just _can't_ remember. But I'd ask her all the same, it may have had, shall we say, an enlightening effect on her."

He meets my eyes again. Mixed emotions. Shock. Fear. Anger. Betrayal (though what did he really expect?).

I put down my cutlery and reopen my newspaper. Playing with fire, Damon. Playing with fire.


	7. Chapter 6

_A/N: Hello everyone, it's been a while. I have finally finished all my exams (GCSEs)! Which means I have plenty of time to write. I haven't written anything TVD related in months, so this chapter may be a little rusty. I'm trying to move it further away from the plot of the TV series, whilst there still being links to it, so bare with me. I've given Elena a bit of an attitude in this one, because it's quite fun to write, but tell me if it's too out of character and I'll fix it for the next chapter. As always, thanks for all the positive feedback, it's amazing. If you have a minute, please do review. Enjoy x_

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**Chapter 6.**

_Elena's POV_

Mr Tanner was being a dick.

This was not unusual behaviour.

But I was in an unusually foul mood.

So it annoyed me more than it normally would.

Why did Stefan feel the need to hide everything from me? What was his deal? I got that there was a history between him and Damon, a bad history, a disagreement of sorts, but there _had_ to be something more than that. Stefan _hated_ him. People say they hate their siblings in moments of quarrel, in moments of weakness, but secretly they love them. It's like that with Jeremey and me. He can do drugs, he can drink himself into a stupor, but he's still my brother, and I'll always forgive him. But I could see no love shared between the Salvatore brothers.

From the look and sound of it, Damon had done something. Something unforgivable. But the older brother had seemed nothing but kind, if not a little strange, to me. He clearly liked to get under Stefan's skin, but, in my opinion, that didn't warrant the clear loathing that Stefan seemed to feel towards him.

I was sitting in a particularly tedious history lesson. It had never been my favourite lesson. Nor would it ever be. What succeeded in annoying me even more was that Stefan _did _seem to be enjoying himself. He was sitting next to me, at the desk to my left. He was leaning forward, listening intently to everything Mr Tanner was saying. He turned his head towards me suddenly, as if he had sensed my gaze upon him. He smiled. Damn that smile. I couldn't stay mad at him long when he was doing _that_.

"Miss Gilbert?"

I turned my eyes quickly to the front of the classroom, where Tanner was looking at me expectantly. Crap. Hadn't. Heard. The. Question. Not that I would likely have known the answer to it any way.

"Um. I don't know?"

"Is that a question or a statement?" he looked smug.

I felt my cheeks burn with embarrassment. And then anger. Everyone was looking at me.

"A statement," I said, with a bit of venom.

He looked slightly startled. Good. But before he could interrogate me further, a voice rose up to my left. I didn't need to turn to see who it was.

"November, 1989"

Mr Tanner moved his eyes from me and onto his next victim.

"Very good, Mr Salvatore… Assassination of Lincoln?"

"April 15th, 1865"

"Kennedy?"

"November 22nd, 1963"

Tanner looked a touch annoyed, but was also clearly impressed. More importantly, his attention had been averted from me.

I looked over to Stefan, when Tanner's back was turned, meaning to say thank you. He was already looking at me, a question in his eyes. But then the bell went and I stood, meaning to make a quick exit to avoid answering his questions.

"Two pages, typed, by Thursday. Don't forget. I won't listen to excuses," Tanner called, as we began to file out.

I was halfway out the door, when a hand caught my wrist. I turned, expecting to see Stefan, and was surprised to see Bonnie. She dragged me along until we turned into the girl's toilets, before letting go of me.

"What was that about?" she asked. "I've never heard you speak to a teacher like that, ever."

I sighed. "I know. It's just, he's such an asshole. And I'm _tired_."

"He's always been an asshole. That's not what's changed." She looked at me then, really looked at me. "This is about Stefan, isn't it?"

"Don't sound so smug about it."

"I told you-"

"You had a bad feeling, yeah I know. I've got a bad feeling too. Happy?"

"I'll be happy when you're happy."

I groaned.

"I was happy. I was happy until I found out he'd been keeping secrets from me. Did you know he had a brother?"

"No, but is that relevant?"

"I don't know! I don't know, because he doesn't tell me things. That's just it, Bon. Relationships are built on trust, and I don't know if I can trust him."

"Just to make things clear; I am _not_ taking his side here. But you've only really just met the guy."

"But it doesn't feel like that. It feels like I've known him for months."

Bonnie held up a hand. Stopping me.

"What you need to do," she said, annunciating clearly, "is go home. And sleep. Then you need to come out, tonight, to the bonfire. Confront him if you want to. But you need to have some fun."

I couldn't argue with that.

Bonnie drove me home, History had been our last lesson of the day and neither of us had felt like hanging around afterwards. I thanked her and made my way up to the front of the house, pulling out my keys as she drove off.

"Elena?"

I turned around, startled. I bent down to pick up the keys that I'd dropped, only to find Damon already holding them out to me. I stood a little awkwardly, before taking them gratefully.

"Sorry if I startled you," he said.

He looked surprised, if not a little happy, to see me. Which was odd considering we were standing outside _my_ house.

"Um, no it's fine. I'm just a little jumpy."

He didn't respond immediately, so I smiled awkwardly and fitted the key into the lock of the door.

"What are you doing here?" I asked.

"Just walking home. You know. Busy day," he said, but he looked, strangely, a bit flustered.

"Right," I smiled at him. "Do you want a cup of tea or coffee-"

But he was already shaking his head.

"No. Thank you, though," he said. "I better be getting back, but it was nice seeing you, Elena."

"Yeah, you too."

He turned and walked, rather quickly, away and down the street. I shook my head in amusement. He was an odd one.

Finally, I unlocked the door and stepped inside, grateful to get out of the hot summer air. I tossed my keys into the bowl, remembering, oddly, the feel of Damon's hand on mine as he had handed them to me, and quickened my step until I had reached my bedroom. I flung myself down on the bed, not bothering to change, and quickly fell into a confusing and muddled sleep. I kept seeing the two of them. The two brothers. I had the overwhelming sense that I had mixed myself up in something. Something I couldn't escape from.

I was awoken by a loud knocking on my door. I turned over, the duvet cocooned around me, my hair in my face, to see Jeremy standing in the entrance. He looked mildly amused. I contemplated throwing a pillow at him. Then though better of it.

"Bonnie's here," he said, before he turned and walked off.

I stood up and wandered over to my window. It was still light, though considerably dimmer than when I had gone to sleep, and Bonnie's car was parked outside. I looked at my phone. There were five missed calls from Stefan.

I had the fastest shower on record, careful not to get my hair wet, before changing into jeans and a top. I had my hairbrush in hand when Bonnie finally came around the corner.

"Hey," she said by way of greeting.

"Hey back," I said, pushing my feet into a pair of converse.

"You doing okay?"

I stopped, exhaled and then, "Never felt better."

She smiled and came over to give me a hug. I returned it, feeling a lot better than I had a few hours previously. I turned to look at my desk and quickly pocketed a paper clip. I had the beginnings of a plan.

We arrived at the bonfire just as the party was beginning to kick off. Over the music, Bonnie yelled that she was going to find us some drinks. I sat down on a log and looked into the fire, grateful for the warmth, as the air had gone cooler with the growing darkness.

Two arms went around my neck. I yelped as Caroline leaned on me.

"You came!" she yelled. Her eyes were a little off focus and she swayed as she sat down on the log beside me.

"Hey Care," I smiled at her.

Her face turned deadly serious for a second, but her tone was light and joking.

"Elena Gilbert, having fun? It's practically unheard of."

"I don't think I'm having quite as much fun as you," I giggled as she tried, and failed, to place her hand on my forehead, in a mock attempt of taking my temperature.

"That's because you need some liquor. You need to get onto this level. It's amazing. Everything is so _colourful_, and-" she cut herself short. "Bonnie! You're here too! We're like the three musketeers, together again at last, taking the world hostage and- and ransoming it off to Doctor Evil," she looked immensely proud of herself.

Bonnie looked at me, and we both started laughing at the same time. She handed me a red cup, and I took a swig of the liquid. It burnt my throat and made my stomach warm and tingly. I held my hand up high, grasping the cup, and cried "All for one and one for all." The other two also held their drinks up, with varying degrees of success- Caroline succeeded in spilling half of hers over herself- before each taking a long gulp. Okay, I told myself, this was good, this was fun. I could do this. I could enjoy myself, I could forget my worries, my problems. I continued to drink until there was nothing left in my cup but air.

I stood up, slightly unsteady on my feet, and made my way over to the beer pumps, calling out over my shoulder to notify my friends of this, but they were deep in conversation, exchanging whispered giggles. And then I walked into a solid wall of person. Said person put both hands on my shoulders to steady me.

"Stefan?" I asked, though obviously it was.

"You okay?" he said, still holding my shoulders.

I dodged past him and busied myself filling the cup I was holding. I was hoping to avoid that particular conversation. But to be honest, I had nearly forgotten about him since I arrived at the bonfire. So I gave a noncommittal 'mmhmm'. He turned me around to face him. I met his eyes briefly before I looked over his shoulder.

"Hell no," I said, gently (or as gently as I could in my inebriated state) moving him aside.

I marched up to my brother, who was standing around fifteen metres away, and plucked the joint right out of his hand. He gave a yelp of surprise as I tossed it on the earth and ground it under my shoe.

"Elena? What are you doing? What the actual-"

"Save it Jeremy. I don't want to hear your excuses. Why are you even here?" I asked.

I saw him glance off to the side and I followed his gaze. Vicki Donovan, with her arm wrapped around Tyler Lockwood.

"So you're stalking Vicki now? Jeremy, please, go home," I begged.

"You should do as your sister says."

I turned around to see Stefan standing there.

"Just- Just give me a minute," I said, turning back around to Jeremy.

But he was gone, walking off in the other direction. Perfect.

"Elena, we should talk."

"So talk, Stefan. I'm listening," I said, waving my arms about loosely to point to my ears.

"Maybe when you're sober?"

"Of course you find another excuse!" I gasped, smiling, but the smile felt dead on my mouth. "You never tell me anything. You act all hostile to your brother, but you never tell me _why_. I know nothing about you. Just tell me something. Anything. Because otherwise, whatever this is between us, is over."

I started walking off in the direction that Jeremy had left in, but suddenly Stefan was in front of me. How had he moved so quickly? I held a warning hand up to him.

"Come on, let's get you home."

"I'm fine."

"No you're not."

I looked at him then. Really looked at him. He stared back, eyes full of concern. It was irritating. I was fine. I was enjoying myself until he came along. I was doing _well_. I didn't need to be babied. I felt in my pockets, and found the paper clip I had placed there earlier. As quickly as I could, I moved the sharp tip of it along my left index finger. I didn't really think about what I was doing. But, sure enough, a small bead of blood welled up from the shallow cut. Stefan looked down at my hands startled.

"Elena what-" and he stopped.

He tried to turn away, tried to hide his face. But I saw it. Temporarily. I could have blinked and missed it.

It was the face from my nightmare. The teeth, the veins. A sharp cold went through my body then. And I let it. I let it take me. I shut my eyes, letting my vision go black. I could feel myself falling. Falling. Falling. I welcomed the darkness like an old friend.


End file.
